Haldir & Feren Share Some Wine
by quietbeansidhe
Summary: Haldir & Feren rarely see each other, but when they do, the two march wardens share a bottle of wine and some stories. One Shot. Non-Slash. "I often think that, if I am destined to travel to Mandos from a battle wound, it is as likely to be in defense of men or dwarves as in defense of elves. But still, it is noble to fight for friendship, is it not?"


Haldir looked around the tent and caught the eye of his Mirkwood counterpart, Feren, holding a glass of wine and chatting to two young elleths who stared up at him with adoring eyes.

Haldir smirked and slowly shook his head from side to side as though to say 'you old warg', then jerked his head towards the door. Feren nodded discreetly and, offering his apologies to the now disappointed elf maidens, made his way outside to where Haldir waited.

The two men grasped each other's wrists in a warriors greeting, each clearly delighted to see the other.

It had been five years since a gathering where both Lord Celeborn and King Thranduil were in attendance and the two march wardens had much to talk about. Feren lifted his cloak ever so slightly to show Haldir the bottle of wine he had smuggled out of the party and the two men walked a bit up the path to get away from the noise and find a spot to chat.

They found a small clearing in the grass. "Is this good enough for the good King Thranduil's march warden?" asked Haldir with a grin, broadly sweeping the space with his arm.

"Oh well," answered Feren, pretending to inspect the grass. "I'd prefer an oaken throne, naturally, but one must make do..."

Haldir rolled his eyes and chuckled as he lowered himself to the grass and stretched his legs out in front of him "That's what I like about you, Feren, your humility."

"Is that so?" said Feren, sitting gracefully, one knee up, but not before pulling out the bottle of wine and popping the cork. "I figured it had to do with my ability to find wine in any establishment."

Haldir held out his glass and Feren filled it then filled his own. Each elf took a drink.

"You know, Feren, you might be right about that. How on earth did you get this? I heard that Lord Celeborn wasn't planning to serve wine until later." He took another drink, savouring the flavour.

"That is true, master Haldir, but this wine is from King Thranduil's private stock. Not one to trust your Noldor tastes, he brings his own wine everywhere he goes."

Haldir choked on his wine and Feren burst out laughing at the other elf's discomfit.

"Relax," said Feren. "The King offered me the bottle when I said I was going to meet you."

"Thank the Vala for that, Feren. I know your King and I'd rather be caught selling secrets to an orc than taking his wine without his knowledge."

Feren raised his eyebrows and nodded his assent. Haldir was completely right.

"I understand that you've been training masters Ellohir and Elladan," said Feren referring to Lord Elrond's twin boys and Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn's grandsons.

Haldir smiled, his eyes shone with pride. "They're very skilled Feren. Just like their father. Both excel at the bow although Elrohir prefers the sword. The challenge isn't training them per se, it's getting them to practice and keeping them out of trouble." Haldir shook his head remembering the many times he'd had to hold the class up while sending a student to fetch the two elves from whatever shenanigans they were up to.

"They're not so different than us at their age. I remember our running the training camp instructors ragged," reflected Feren.

Haldir burst out laughing at the memory. "I had entirely forgot about being at that joint training camp with you. Do you remember we poured all that glue on the instructor's seat?"

"Only to be surprised when King Thranduil came for a visit and inspection," Feren added.

"And the instructor offered him his chair..." Both men dissolved into guffaws till tears of mirth ran down their faces as they remembered Thranduil's red face and suppressed fury, and how they hid under tree roots until the King returned to his host. It took years before Haldir could look Thranduil in the face without flushing.

Feren raised his glass to Haldir, "Cheers to that, my brother in arms!"

"And in glue!" Haldir added with a grin. They clinked glasses and each took a generous swig.

And how goes training with the young Prince? Haldir asked. He cheerfully picked up the bottle and poured more wine into each glass.

"Good, good," said Feren. "Although it's a task I share with his father, more often than I'd like." he admitted. Feren was silent for a moment. King Thranduil was the most skilled warrior in Middle Earth, and although Feren was one of the few elves who could hold his own against the old King, it wasn't always pleasant to be observed so closely when training the Prince. "Still, it's an honour," he continued. "And the King shows me much favour. I can't complain, and given the encroachment of the spiders, it is good that our young ones have as much training as possible."

The two men sat quiet for a moment, each considering their own experiences fighting the spiders and other vile creatures of the Mirkwood. Even though Lothian was hidden behind the River Celebrant, Haldir often saw spiders when out on wider patrols. He found them unnerving and he shivered in spite of himself. Feren looked at him sympathetically.

"I know," Feren said. "I feel the same. You never get used to them and for each one you kill, two more show up. We have petitioned the King to assign more guards to clear the forest but so far we only clear within our territory."

The two men frowned. Haldir exhaled and looked over at Feren. "Ah, well, we have the opposite problem here. Our Lord and Lady volunteers their army quite...generously, shall we say. I often think that, if I am destined to travel to Mandos from a battle wound, it is as likely to be in defense of men or dwarves as in defense of elves. But still, it is noble to fight for friendship is it not?"

"Perhaps for men, yes, but I'm not sure dwarves understand friendship. From what I've seen of dwarves, most are more concerned with gold than friendship."

"Would you not fight again for a dwarf?" asked Haldir, referring to the battle at Erebor 50 years before.

"Does it matter? We go were our leaders send us." Feren drank the last of his wine. "Let's not speak of such things Haldir. We are growing morbid in our old age." he said, attempting to lighten the conversation. "There are battles enough on our borders. For now, let us only worry about drinking as much wine as possible and returning to the smiles of those two lovely maidens I was effectively chatting up before you tore me away from their charms."

Haldir laughed in spite of himself and drained his glass of the last of the wine. "Our old age? You refer only to yourself Feren," he said archly.

"Right then," said Feren with a wolfish grin. "Back to the battle tent?" At this Haldir laughed out right. "Yes, march warden, we have pretty elves to detain and hopefully interrogate!"

The two men got up and made their way back to the tented gathering, their step wobblier than before, but their confidence and good spirits intact.


End file.
